


tell me what it's like down south before i accidentally tell you what i'm thinking about

by ididntsayitback



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Everyone Is Alive, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Lydia Martin Loves Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Has a Big Dick, a lot of SILLY content, a lot of sexual frustration ensues, because when does he not, high school cliques and all that, malia redeems herself eventually, that's basically it, we love some good ol miscommunication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididntsayitback/pseuds/ididntsayitback
Summary: Lydia and Stiles agreed to see other people. It's not going great.
Relationships: Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, other pairings but SPOILERS, side Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, side Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from 'All That I Want is You' by the Magic Gang because I'm a soft bitch

Lydia's thighs are starting to ache, so she flexes her ankles and stretches her legs for a moment, determined not to let this ruin the moment.

In all fairness, the moment is feeling more like moments, several moments, maybe half an hour, but if Lydia gives up now, she knows she will be giving up a lot more than an orgasm. 

The thing is, Jordan is a beautiful man. When he looks at her with those kind eyes, he _almost_ makes Lydia's knees go weak, which literally never happens. He is also kind and considerate and _really_ listens to her. As in, he _asks about that thing she mentioned weeks ago that even she deemed unimportant at the time_ listens to her. She will walk into her office to find bouquets of flowers with her name on them at least once a week, always carefully selected and with excellent calligraphy. He is happy to watch whatever bullshit chick-flick she feels like watching any one evening, and while it is not uncommon for him to fall asleep halfway through, he never complains.

It doesn't hurt that the deputy always gets this childish response from Stiles, like he's annoyed, like he's _jealous_ , which just makes Lydia want to hold onto Jordan's arm that little bit harder. And it's not like he's bad in bed - he always finds a good rythm, has stamina good enough to manhandle her and change position as often as she wants him to, and most importantly, he is perfectly happy to go down on her for... how long has it been now? Lydia checks the alarm clock on her bedside table. Thirty-two minutes now.

Unfortunately for Lydia, she has always been stupidly romantic about sex. It's so embarrassing, but she really struggles to orgasm unless she's moaning the name of someone she loves. She had never known this about herself until she had found herself face-down, ass up, with Aiden pounding into her exactly right, his hand directly on her clit, exactly as she had asked, and yet it just hadn't been enough.

All Jackson had ever had to do was give her maybe two fingers, then his cock, lazy and clumsy and just a hint of selfish, and she would be coming all over the place. Stiles, though, Stiles was the one who truly broke her, making her feel so desperate for it she would ring him in the middle of the night and practically beg for him to drive around and get between her legs. Lydia hasn't even used a vibrator for months now, because she knows just what kind of images (or rather, images of whom) she will need to conjure so she can come, and she can't be doing that anymore. 

Lydia bites her lip to hide a wince as one of her feet starts tingling, sending a painful sensation down her calf. Jordan picks up on it anyway, because he's fucking in love with her, probably, and pulls his tongue out of her folds. 'Want me to stop?' he says, and the way his lips are glistening should really be enough to send her over the edge at this point, but it just. Does nothing.

Lydia thinks about how dark and plump Stiles' lips look after he goes down on her, idly considers how Malia feels about it when he does that to her. 

She gives Jordan an apologetic smile. 'My legs are cramping.'

Jordan nods, letting her legs fall down on the bed and starts massaging up and down her thighs. 'We can try again later?'

Lydia nods back, and the relief that floods her is almost enough to make her want to cry.

Seven months, it has been.

Seven months since Stiles told her maybe they should start seeing other people, and she agreed. Six months since Stiles started dating Malia, as if he had been desperate for a relationship all this time and Lydia had been simply holding him back. Five months since Lydia had drunk half a bottle of gin, followed Stiles into Isaac's toilet halfway through a house party, and all but jumped him, and five months since Stiles had kissed her back just as fervently, squeezing her close as if he had been coming up for air for weeks and she was finally giving him oxygen, and five months since Stiles had stopped her with guilty eyes and proceeded to have a panic attack, because Stiles is good and kind and not a cheater, and because Stiles actually cares about Malia. Five months since Stiles had climbed through Lydia's window, just before 8am, anxiously pacing back and forth like he does when he hasn't slept the night before, and asked Lydia for space, for his own and Malia's sake, and Lydia had agreed to give him it, so hangover and embarrassed and horny and heartbroken.

Lydia had known the friends-with-benefits-thing they had refused to name was not going to last forever, but she hadn't expected it to hurt so much.

When Jordan falls asleep, arm wrapped around her waist, she is blinking back tears. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: stiles vomits in the parking lot scene, but it is not explained in any graphic detail at all

Stiles wakes up with a groan. Images of red hair and soft, round breasts are now disappearing from behind his eyelids, but he is immediately aware of the throbbing that is very much still happening between his legs. He rolls over and half-heartedly grinds down on the mattress to try and relieve some of the pressure, hand clutching his own hair with an annoyed huff.

To his credit, _awake_ Stiles has been doing pretty well in terms of not obsessing, worrying, or fantasising about Lydia Martin. In fact, he has barely thought about her at all. Turns out doing everything you can to avoid seeing someone helps you think about them less, and having someone else give you head and talk to you about supernatural stuff is an excellent distraction.

 _Asleep_ Stiles has unfortunately not got the memo yet.

Stiles checks the time on his alarm clock and decides, with a long-suffering sigh, that it is still dark enough outside he can pretend he was never awake at all, and allows himself to close his eyes and think of her before wrapping a hand around himself.

By the time he arrives at the school parking lot, chaos has erupted in the groupchat. The witches Stiles has been trying incredibly hard not to think about are back, Deaton says, and no one seems to be able to get a hold of Lydia. Stiles' heart immediately jumps into his throat, his eyes blurring for a few seconds before he manages to get his emotions somewhat under control.

He jumps out of the car, Scott already jogging towards him with a concerned expression that tells him he is all too aware of how close Stiles is to throwing up right now. They find each other by the curb and immediately reach for each other's arms: Scott, firm and reassuring; Stiles, desperate for something to hold on to.

'Allison just called, she's not home.'

'And no one-?'

'We will find her, Stiles.'

'Has anyone tried Parrish?' a voice suggests, and Stiles turns to face Malia. Usually, the mere mention of his name makes Stiles want to roll his eyes, but this time it sends a momentary flash of hope through his chest.

'Yep, tried the station just now' Scott says. 'He said he left her house early this morning and she seemed fine.' The alpha focuses his eyes on Stiles' as the latter's breath visibly speeds up. 'She was fine, Stiles.'

'Well, where IS she, then?' Stiles doesn't mean to shout, his best friend is trying to help, but if he doesn't hear from Lydia within the next two minutes he might genuinely faint. Funny how he's been doing everything possible to avoid her for weeks, and now he wants nothing more than to see her, hear her voice, make sure not a single hair on her head has been touched.

Allison and Isaac arrive, joining them by the parking lot with worried expressions. 'Anything yet?'

Stiles begins to zone out, everything around him going ever so slightly blurry again. Is it never going to end? He doesn't think he can count with the fingers of one hand how many times Lydia's been the target of some supernatural creature's murderous plan, and he needs the other hand to hold onto Scott so he doesn't fall onto his knees when he thinks that Lydia could be anywhere, she could be tied up in a basement, being medically tampered with again, being used as a weapon, being bitten by some lunatic werewolf, could be _anywhere._

His hands are shaking when he pulls his phone out of his pocket and goes to the contact he's had on speed dial for three years.

Derek Hale's voice answers on his ear after a beat. 'Hello?'

'D-derek, we- the witches, they're back, and Lydia-'

'Yeah, Cora just said, is everyone okay your end?' 

'Well, no- we- Lydia-' A buzzing on his phone interrupts Stiles, who pulls it away from his ear a moment so he can look at the screen, and nearly gasps when he sees Lydia's contact picture. 'I gotta go.'

He answers Lydia's call before the werewolf has a chance to answer, and sure enough, it is the banshee's voice on the other line. 'Stiles! I'm fine. I'm just on my way now, my phone was dead, I'm fine.'

The pack can do nothing but watch as Stiles slowly walks toward the decorative flower arrangement in the parking lot, bends over the fence, and vomits. 

Allison offers him a tissue with a sympathetic smile and Stiles takes it from her, chest heaving. He remembers the phone he is still holding and offers it to Allison without a word.

The brunette picks it up without questioning him. 'Lydia, it's me. Where the fuck have you been? We were all worried about you.'

Stiles chooses to sit on the curb, closing his eyes so he can try and regain his composure. His hands are still shaking and he's struggling to slow his breathing, but he knows he will feel okay in a minute. This isn't a panic attack, he tells himself. Lydia is fine. She's fine. Everything is fine, but he knows he will have to see her, unharmed, with his own eyes, before he can even out his breath.

Malia sits next to him, gently rubbing his knee. When he finally opens his eyes to try and smile at her, he notices a weird look in her eye, like she gets when she's trying not to say something she's been taught is inappropriate or childish. Stiles is not even sure he can speak, let alone discuss anything in depth, so he chooses to let it go. He looks up at the rest of them, trying not to think about the way everyone is looking at him.

It's _fine_. Everything is fine.


	3. Chapter 3

Things have significantly worsened on Lydia's end since last week's events. 

Stiles is speaking to her again, which she guesses is as a result of the whole her being assumed kidnapped or dead, and while she obviously enjoys seeing him, getting to sit next to him in class again, and getting the occasional text from him, there are some immediate consequences to this.

She hadn't forgotten about Stiles' insistence on putting anything he touches in his mouth (she really, really wishes she'd forgotten), but having to watch him bite and lick all over his pencil for six hours a day is simply too much for Lydia. She can't really blame him for the way she's unable to look away from his hands, because, to be honest, he's not even doing anything special with them, but all she can think about is how they'd feel on her waist, how tightly they'd hold onto her hips, how soft they'd be on her breasts, and just how badly she wants them all over her again. 

Then there's the way he reaches back to take off his jersey after lacrosse practice, the muscles in his arms flexing as he uses the fabric to wipe sweat off his forehead as he jokes along with the boys. And there's the cheeky wink he sends her way when he catches her eyeing him up and down, his smile so warm and friendly still managing to make her press her thighs together.

Then there's the way he keeps getting picked on by Finstock, who seems to have it out for him today, and he answers every single question right, sometimes going into long detail like not only has he done his reading, but he's enjoyed it and wikipedia'd the hell out of it. Lydia's already so turned on she could cry, and then Stiles provides a perfect answer to coach's question while maintaining eye contact with her, eyes bright and cheeky like he's half-expecting her to challenge his answer, only she _can't_ , he's right, he's completely right and so clever and so _hot_ , and all Lydia can do is press her lips together to stop herself smiling at him like an idiot. 

An unforeseen consequence, however, is the fact she can also no longer stand the sight of Jordan. It's not really the 'ick,' she tries to explain to Allison, who has been watching too much of UK's Love Island, it's more like the thought of sleeping with him again makes her want to gag. She ignores Allison when she tries to argue that _that is exactly what the 'ick' is, Lydia,_ and that she should _just break up with him and talk to Stiles, for God's sake_ , because Lydia is talking to Stiles enough as it is.

She's just finished wiping her makeup off when her phone goes off with a text from the devil himself. It reads: 'can I interest you in a ride to school tomorrow?' followed by what Lydia believes is every single transport-related emoji on the emoji keyboard, and lord, that is a lot of trains. Why would anyone need that many different train emojis in the first place?

'You can,' she types back, and adds a blushing smiley face. Are they flirting again? Is this flirting?

She can't really remember a time where she was actively flirting with Stiles and not already sleeping with him. She knows she wouldn't have to scroll that far up before she found very incriminating texts from Stiles ('wanna proofread each other's essays and give each other head?') and far more embarrassing ones from herself, ranging from ambiguous 'come over's to plainer 'thinking about your cock's. She doesn't think she'd be able to find any innocent, pre-sex flirting, though. She guesses Stiles has always been nice to her, in ways that could probably be read as flirting? Maybe? How _did_ she flirt with Jordan? Has she _ever_ flirted with anyone? _Can_ she flirt?

Before she can go any deeper into that though rabbit hole, her phone lights up again. 'I'll have your order of americano with a hint of oat milk and two sugars at the ready,' Stiles says, followed by... a kissy emoji? Just a kissy emoji. Lydia has never seen Stiles use that emoji, ever. 

Lydia realises she's smiling at the text, and before she can stop herself, her mind produces the words. I love you. _I love you_. I love you?

She's so scandalised at herself she nearly gasps out loud. What the hell? She's not even started typing the words, but her brain wanted her to, it wanted her to _send them_ , as if that didn't have the potential to ruin Lydia's entire life, as if it was a normal, everyday occurrence for her to text Stiles Stilinski that she loves him. Her eyes are still wide as she very carefully, very painstakingly, types out a message. 'Looking forward to it,' she sends. No emojis. She immediately lays the phone on her desk, face down, and jumps into bed with a whine. 


	4. Chapter 4

_NINE MONTHS AGO_

Lydia wakes up and she's immediately sweltering, even though she is in nothing but a pair of panties. 

It's mid afternoon in early August and the temperature has been dramatically increasing since around seven o'clock this morning. She and Stiles were meant to be finishing their project due Monday today, but after complaining for hours about how Lydia's fan just wasn't good enough and eating an entire 3kg tub of ice-cream between the two of them, they had lied on the somewhat cooler floor and immediately fallen asleep.

The thing about sharing a bed with Stiles, or indeed a floor, Lydia has learnt, is that even if it is scorching hot outside, and even if it makes both of them sweat buckets within minutes, he will still wrap his entire body around hers.

Right now, he is full-body spooning her with a leg thrown over hers, his arm around her waist, hand lightly holding onto her breast and occasionally squeezing it in his sleep, and his entire face buried into Lydia's now soaked neck. Lydia's hair is sticking on both their foreheads despite her half-hearted attempts to shove it off her face. She lets out a long, high-pitched wine and Stiles' still half-asleep body immediately reacts, his hips shifting forward, and she can now very clearly feel the outline of his cock pressing against the back of her thigh. 

Her body responds by sending blood rushing down to her core, and she's not quite sure whether she is suddenly so wet she is dripping all over her thighs, or whether she's just sweating. Perhaps a mix of both.

As if reading her mind, Stiles' hand slides down from her breast, his palm cupping her between her legs. She really can't help it when she grinds down onto his hand, and she knows he's awake now by the way he presses it against her rather than letting it move down with her hips. 

Her voice is a lot more guttural than she'd intended it to be when she groans out his name, and well, he's never had to be told anything twice. Before she can register what's happening, brain still muddled with the heat coming from the window, Stiles has flipped her on her back and is now hovering over her, eyes darkening under her gaze. She's now sure at least 70% of the damp gathering between her thighs is arousal rather than sweat, and Jesus, she actually can't remember ever being so _wet_. She feels as if heat is radiating off her, like if Stiles doesn't push his cock into her within the next ten seconds she might implode and her entire body will turn into fluid, flooding her bedroom and all the way down the corridor.

It might be the heat, or the weird tiredness that comes with sleeping for too long during the day; it might be the new pill she's taking, and the fact her hormones are all over the place; or it might just be the way Stiles' cock is tenting his boxers so that she can see the tip just barely visible past the waistband. Whatever it is, it's making her feel crazy with it. Her entire skin is burning. She needs to have him.

He smirks as if he knows exactly what she's feeling, and he leans down to kiss her, hot and hard. She impatiently hooks her fingers into the waistband of his boxers so she can pull him down on top of her, but he uses his hands on the floor on either side of her face to keep himself off her. She frowns up at him, another whine already forming in her throat. Why is he making her _wait?_

There's a pained expression on his face when he whispers, 'we used the last condoms this morning.' He pecks her lips and kisses the tip of her nose thrice in quick succession, as if he hasn't just shaken Lydia's world, before shifting back up to look at her again. 'We can still get off, though.'

He dips his head back down to kiss down her neck and collarbone as if to prove a point. She lets him have it for a moment, lets him sigh onto the dip between her breasts before taking each one of them in his hands and starting to lick all over them, but it isn't _enough._

'Stiles,' she protests, and he looks back up apologetically. 

'I'm sorry, I didn't realise we were running so low,' he offers her a small smirk before peppering kisses in a circle around her nipple, then taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. The noise Lydia makes is half moan, half protest. He shrugs, 'when I bought that extra large pack I really didn't think we'd be going through it in two months,' his voice goes an octave lower when Lydia unceremoniously sticks her hand down her boxers, swiftly grabbing his cock. 'I mean, eighty condoms, in two months, pretty- pretty good effort from us, isn't it?' he trails off, the thought seemingly no longer relevant to him as his jaw goes slack with pleasure. Lydia continues to pump him through it, only partly conscious of what she's doing.

'But I want you,' she all but cries out, and Stiles groans in response, head falling between her breasts again as his breathing goes shallower. 'Stiles, I'm so wet. I want you now. I want you inside me.'

His voice comes muffled from against her skin, 'I know,' his eyes are shut as he visibly struggles not to moan louder as she quickens the pace of her hand. 'Lydia- Lydia, I will eat you out- so good- for _hours_ -'

'No,' she whines, stopping the moment of her hand so she can grab both sides of his face and pull him up so his face is directly above hers. 'I don't want that.'

Stiles looks like he's in pain, the look in his eyes altering between desire and regret. 'You don't mean that.'

She squeaks in response. 'I know what I want!'

'That's not what I-' he shakes his head, hand trying to move back between her legs before getting swatted away by a now almost angry-looking Lydia. 'I know you want me now, but when we're in CVS getting the morning after pill, you will be so angry-' he stops himself, frowning: 'That's it, Lydia. CVS.'

'CVS?' Her thighs feel weak now, like if she were to stand her legs would be shaking, and Stiles has somehow managed to snake a hand between them again, drawing circles around her folds with his finger as if to soothe her. It's not working.

'We'll drive by CVS. Get a bunch of condoms-' she interrupts him with a groan, as if to say _that's too far away and I'm so wet and I want you now_ , and because he's been studying her language for years, he responds as if she had said exactly that: 'No, listen, it'll take less than five minutes. I promise. I'll go in the shop and then I'll fuck you in the car, in the backseat, wherever you want.' He softly moves the hair away from her face with the hand that isn't between her legs and smiles almost wistfully, 'I'll fuck you so good, Lydia.'

So that's how she finds herself dressed in nothing but one of his lacrosse tops that reaches all the way down her knees, still so wet she can't help but press her thighs together, sitting in the passenger seat of the Jeep parked outside the local shopping centre. 

She half-heartedly fans herself with the copy of National Geographic she found on the dashboard. Now that her mind-boggling desire has started to slowly filter out of her system, she can admit he is right to do this. Lydia's only two days into her new pill and has been told by the doctor she needs to use alternative protection for at least another five. The thought that he remembered this, despite her having only mentioned this in passing, and the fact that he chose to bring it up rather than pretend to forget like she knows many other boys would do, makes her heart jump in her chest. She has no time to feel this much affection for a boy she's soaking through her panties for.

She finally sees him jogging back to the car, and by the time he's jumped back onto his seat and closed the door his smirk has grown into a full grin. 'So I ended up getting a lot of stuff.'

'Right,' she grabs the plastic bag for him and reaches inside, trying and failing to hide her own smile, but he stops her pulling any products out with a gentle hand on her wrist.

'So I thought, you know, condoms are kind of expensive-' she's just about to interrupt him to offer to pay for these ones, but he shakes his head, once again seeing straight through her before she even speaks, 'no, no, I mean- I still got loads, it's no problem- what I mean is, well- I also got these,' he takes the bag back from her and ruffles through it, pulling out two small, plastic, thin boxes. He must see the way her face falls the moment she recognises them because he immediately raises his hands up, 'we don't have to, though, obviously! I realise now, actually, whoa, that's a huge step,' he's speaking so quickly she's surprised he's not stumbling over his own words, 'Oh my god, I'm so stupid, I didn't even think- I obviously didn't think this through, obviously we haven't had that- we haven't- you know what? Forget about these.' He promptly chucks them toward the back of the car until they disappear from view and looks back at Lydia, 'We have condoms. Lots of condoms. We'll use those.'

'Stiles-'

'Also! Also,' his hand returns to the bag, pulling out different small packages, 'I didn't know how you'd feel about these, but they look fun,' he points to the new boxes for Lydia to see, and she allows herself a small smile when she sees the images of what looks like a cock ring and a small bullet vibrator on them. She looks back up at Stiles, who still looks worried, and he takes a deep breath before discarding the boxes onto her lap and holding her hands between his. His eyes are wide open and sincere when he speaks again: 'Lydia, I'm sorry. I was rushing through the shop, and they were just giving them out to college students, like- like, they were free, and I didn't even think. Please can we pretend I never said anything?'

Lydia's heart is beating so fast in her chest, but he looks so concerned, like he's half expecting her to jump out of the car and flee the city and never speak to him again. 'Stiles, it's okay. I understand. It makes sense to- to-'

He's violently shaking his head now, 'No, no, let's- let's not talk about it. Please? Let's pretend this never happened?' He pleads with her, and she relents with a nod.

She looks back down at her lap, trying for a casual tone when she lifts up the cock ring with a smirk. 'Really up for this, though.' 

He smiles at her with such relief she can do nothing but kiss him on the lips, sweet and loud. 'Can we go home now?'

'Lydia, I really don't see the big deal here.' Lydia has been pacing across Allison's room for half an hour now while the brunette flicks through one of her books. 'I think it's pretty cool, that, you know, he cares about you guys being safe.'

'I know he cares, Allison,' Lydia's exasperated, having had to explain this to her friend over and over. 'But if we get tested, and we stop using condoms-'

'You'll stop sleeping with other people. I know. I mean, I would hope that's already the case, considering how often you have his penis in your mouth. You do know you can get STDs from sucking dick, yes?'

'Yes, Allison, I know. Stiles is safe. That's not the _point_!'

'Isn't that the entire point?' It's Allison's turn to roll her eyes in frustration. 

The redhead turns to face her friend with an incredulous expression on her face. 'Are you even listening to me?'

Allison closes her book with a dramatic flick of her wrist, face turning serious for once. 'Lydia. You're being ridiculous.'

'Well, thanks for that, best friend, just what I needed to hear.'

Allison stands up from her bed and grabs Lydia's shoulders, speaking slowly and intently: 'Stiles is not fucking anyone else. We know this because he's obsessed with you, and because he literally has no time, with how often he's already fucking _you_. You're obviously not sleeping with anyone else, nor do you _want to_ ,' Lydia opens her mouth to try and complain, but Allison shushes her. 'You're already on the pill. It makes so much sense to just get a test and stop using condoms. It doesn't have to be a big deal. He obviously didn't even think it through until you shouted at him for it.'

'I didn't shout- I didn't even say anything about it!'

'I'm sure your face said enough.'

Lydia closes her eyes for a moment, partly so she can stop looking at Allison's very reasonable face. The brunette waits until she's opened them again before she continues talking: 'Get tested, or don't. But stop stressing about it.'


	5. Chapter 5

_PRESENT DAY_

Lydia is trying to focus on her art lesson but she keeps giggling as messages from the girls' groupchat pop up on her screen. Well, not the girls-girls chat, it's the _limited_ girls chat, which consists of herself, Allison, Kira, Danny, and Theo. The proper girls chat, aptly named Girls And Gays, includes Malia and Stiles, too, but that one has been pretty dead ever since Malia started dating Stiles and decided to repeatedly and unnecessarily be rude to Kira, unwittingly splitting the original group into two. 

_**Allison, 16.45** _

**@Lydia** , Scott just implied Stiles and Malia aren't having sex ???

_**Kira, 16.45** _

dskgjhskjg I HEARD

I mean totally none of my business but why did he feel the need to tell everyone that 💀

_**Theo, 16.46** _

tbh I also wouldn't be fucking someone who can't control her fucking claws

the boy's probably scarred

LITERALLY

_**Kira, 16.46** _

💀💀💀💀

_**Allison, 16.46** _

SHUT UPPPPP omg

_**Theo, 16.46** _

did I lie tho

_**Allison, 16.46** _

Scott says he's been making excuses not to see her OMG

@ **Lydia** are you reading this

I'm crying

_**Kira, 16.47** _

omggg is he actually

do you think he's wanting out

_**Allison, 16.47** _

deffo

_**Theo, 16.47** _

you don't mind if I go for it do you @ **Lydia**??

as soon as he's single

we pounce

_**Danny, 16.47** _

Girlsssss what

She waited for him after lacrosse practice last night and they seemed fine

Plus she was wearing his hoodie this morning

I did hear something else tho 👀

_**Allison, 16.47** _

SPILL

_**Kira, 16.47** _

what !!!

_**Theo, 16.47** _

wait you still go to practice?

_**Danny, 16.48** _

@ **Theo** yes

I heard they still use condoms

which I find interesting

considering how keen the boy was to get rid of them with @ **Lydia 💅**

but what do I know 

_**Allison, 16.48** _

IM DEAD

_**Kira, 16.48** _

omgggg

_**Theo, 16.48** _

that's hilarious

_**Kira, 16.48** _

Guys tbf maybe she's not on the pill?

**_Allison, 16.48_ **

No I know she is

_**Theo, 16.48** _

She is @ **Kira**

_**Danny, 16.48** _

🐸 ☕️

Very curious!

_**Allison, 16.49** _

Come over for takeaway?

_**Theo, 16.49** _

Pizza?

_**Allison, 16.50** _

Yea if you want

_**Kira, 16.50** _

Yes pleassssse

_**Danny, 16.52** _

I'm down

_**Allison, 16.52** _

Should I invite Stiles

_**Theo, 16.52** _

YES

omg

_**Kira, 16.52** _

Looooool

_**Lydia, 17.03** _

@ **Allison** NO

Lmao

I was in art class

Yeah I'll come round

No Stiles tho

@ **Allison**!!!

I swear to god

No Stiles

_**Allison, 17.05**_

Fine

_**Danny, 17.05**_

Can we do Thai tho


	6. Chapter 6

'How's Lydia doing? I haven't seen her around much.' The Sheriff changes the channel onto NBC, where Lester Holt is explaining why the Democrats will need a supermajority in the Senate if they expect this bill to pass anytime soon. Stiles pretends to be enthralled by his analysis so he doesn't have to answer his dad's question. 

'This isn't about Malia, is it? Son, just because you have a girlfriend now doesn't mean you should ignore your other friendships. Lydia and Scott have been there for you since you were-'

'It's not like that, dad,' Stiles all but grunts out. 'I mean, it is like that, but it's not.'

Noah lets his fork down so he can focus on Stiles. He's frowning as if this is some serious conversation they're having, and it's _seriously_ getting on Stiles' nerves. 'Then what is it like? Lydia is a lovely girl-'

Stiles thinks, fuck it. He's nearly eighteen. He can be honest with his dad. 'We were sleeping together.' He dares make eye contact with the Sheriff now, whose mouth is agape in surprise. 'Lydia and I. We were, you know, casually sleeping together.' He pushes past the bitter taste that the next words leave in his mouth, 'That's why she was around all the time. No other reason. I'm dating Malia now so obviously we have stopped. That's it.'

He gets up from his seat even though he's not really finished eating and starts emptying his plate. If he gets it done quick enough, maybe he won't have to hear what his dad has to say.

'Son.' Unlucky. 'You don't expect me to believe you didn't have feelings for that girl?'

Stiles presses his eyes shut, grateful he's facing the wall rather than his dad as he scrubs his plate clean. 'Yes, I do, dad.'

He feels a hand on his shoulder next and he turns with a sigh, accepting Noah's plate. The Sheriff has a small smile on his face, almost like he's in on a joke Stiles isn't. 'Well, I like Lydia.'

'Yeah, that'd be a bit weird though, wouldn't it? You're what, eighty years older than her?' 

'Yes, very funny. But I do, Stiles. I like her for you.'

Stiles lets his father's plate drop into the sink and decides to leave it there to soak. 'I have a girlfriend, dad.'

'I know.'

'Who I like.'

'Oh, I would hope so.'

Father and son have a short staring contest before Stiles concedes, all but running upstairs. 

The first time Stiles pushes inside Lydia without a condom will probably be engrained in his memory forever. The little gasp she let out, the sudden blush of her cheeks, the exact position of her breasts squeezed together between her arms as she held onto his neck. And then, the small, cheeky smile she gave him, almost as if to say, _finally,_ and _I bet this feels nice for you_ , and _you can move now_ , and then, then, something else, something sweeter Stiles didn't have time to decipher until it was gone. Something warm and personal, something that made him swallow harder, hold his breath for a moment. Stiles has been learning the silent language of Lydia's face for years, but every now and then, it will say something he can't quite comprehend. 

Even now, eight months later, he sometimes finds himself lying awake at night, replaying her expression in his head, trying to understand what she'd meant.

Stiles' phone buzzes on his bedside table, bringing him back to reality. It's from Malia, telling him she's going to be gone for the weekend. No other information provided.

Stiles has always liked that about Malia - she comes and goes as she pleases, doesn't feel like she owes him an explanation; she's unpredictable, too, has him driving across state lines for a spontaneous date in the woods; disappears on him and returns two days later, sliding through his window in the middle of the night already half-naked and jumping into his bed, no questions asked and no answers expected.

He knows she's caused quite a scene at school a few times now, being branded as rude and inconsiderate by many of his friends who have been at the receiving end of her blunt honesty. But Stiles - Stiles knows her better than anyone, knows what she means and where she's coming from every time she opens her mouth. 

He can admit to himself that is partly the reason he's so comfortable with her. He knows their relationship isn't forever, knows she would take it well if he were to end things tomorrow. He knows there aren't many expectations for them, no declarations of true love and forever needed. But he also knows he is Malia's best friend, and she trusts him more than anyone, and there is definitely an expectation for loyalty and honesty. He's already lied to her so many times - he can hardly stop thinking about that night at Isaac's when Lydia had all but jumped him - and he wonders, not for the first time, what would happen if he just told her. Told her everything, that is. Told her about his feelings for Lydia, about how often he still thinks about her, how badly his skin still burns for hers. Malia doesn't take well to being lied to, but maybe, maybe she'd grow to appreciate him telling her this.

His phone buzzes again with an incoming call from Theo. He groans but picks it up after a few seconds. 'Hello?'

'You at home?'

He considers lying. Wonders if the chimera would be able to hear his heartbeat through the phone. He sighs. 'Maybe.'

'I'm coming round.'

Stiles groans again. 'No. Why?'

'There's been a development. I'm sure you'll be very interested.'

'A development in what?'

'Wouldn't you like to know?'

'Do you really need to come round to tell me?'

'I wanna see your face as I tell you.'

'So Facetime me?'

'Nah, I'm driving. Be there in five.' And with that, he hangs up.

Stiles is really not in the mood for whatever the fuck this is, but puts a t-shirt on regardless and pulls his window open.

Theo slides through it not two minutes later. His hair is slicked back, skin a bit flushed from the outside cold, and he's so goddamn attractive, it annoys the hell out of Stiles, every time without fail. He notices he's wearing Liam's lacrosse jersey again, and rolls his eyes.

'Boyfriend letting you wear his clothes now?'

Theo practically hisses at him in response, sitting on the edge of Stiles' bed uninvited. Liam isn't Theo's boyfriend - not yet anyway - but Stiles gets too many texts from the both of them not to know what's going on.

'I'm here about Lydia.'

Stiles' stomach drops, then immediately after, he gets such an urge to punch Theo in the face he has to close both hands into fists to stop himself. 'Theo, I swear to God-'

'It's good news!'

'Theo-'

'She and Parrish have broken up!' Theo stares at him expectantly, and when Stiles fails to say anything back, he carries on: 'Well, more accurately, she broke up with him. Because she was bored of him. Isn't that interesting? A 26 year old cop buying her flowers every week, and yet-'

Stiles' blood is boiling for a different reason now. 'Theo, please get out of my house.' 

The chimera tsks, tilting his head. 'Really? You're not gonna thank me for this information? No compensation whatsoever?'

Stiles rolls his eyes. He's not cheated on Malia with Lydia Martin, he's certainly not going to do it with Theo. 'I didn't ask for this.'

Theo finally gets up, stepping into his personal space, and Stiles lightly shoves him back. 'Look, sorry that your own sex life is boring. It's not my fault Liam is seeing someone else.'

It is Theo's turn to pout, but he turns to leave. 'Why is it that all the pretty bi boys in this town are obsessed with a woman? What's the point?'

Stiles pats him in the back, more aggressive than comforting. 'Yeah, yeah, you can go home and write an essay about it.'

'Maybe I will.'

'You should.' He watches with a begrudging smile as the boy jumps out his window, safely landing on his feet and saluting him from the ground. He salutes back. 'Sleep well.'

'Think about what I said!' Theo shouts from below. 'She's single now!'

Stiles pulls his window back down and shuts the blinds so he doesn't have to look at Theo anymore.

She is. Lydia is single for the first time in months. That _is_ an interesting development.

He shakes his head before getting into bed. This means nothing. He can't let this get to his head. Lydia didn't want a relationship when they were fucking three times a day, and she certainly doesn't now. Stiles checks his phone one more time before switching the lights off. There's a text from Lydia.

_**Lydia, 22.49** _

Hey, Allison is driving me in tomorrow so no need to pick me up. Gnight 


End file.
